Secretly Yours (The Wild McBrides 2) - Page 13

His eyebrows drew even more tightly together, and she almost sighed. She had handled this badly, letting her concern for him show through her usually carefully maintained professional distance. She knew he was oversensitive about his disabilities, whatever they were; she should have known he would not concede any sort of weakness in front of her. To the contrary, he was likely to try to do twice as much as usual just to prove he could.

And what was really bothering her was this feeling that she was beginning to know him so well, despite the very limited nature of the time they had spent together so far.

“We have an arrangement,” he said shortly. “You’ve been doing your part, and I intend to uphold mine.”

She caved. “All right. The knob on the medicine cabinet in my bathroom came off in my hand this morning. I tried to put it back on, but I think the screw is stripped.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“The window in the living room won’t open. It was so warm and pretty yesterday, I wanted to let some fresh air in, but it was stuck.”

“Is that it?”

“If you could just fix those two things today, I’d be grateful.” She figured neither task would demand too much from him physically—and maybe he would feel he’d done his part today if he accomplished at least that much. As she watched him cross the room and open the door, she wished she could make him understand that he’d already done so much more than she’d ever expected.

“Mule-headed male,” she muttered as the door closed behind him.

The door opened again. “I heard that,” Trent informed her. And then closed the door behind him with a snap.

Annie was startled into a laugh. Had she actually seen a glint of amusement in Trent’s usually grim blue eyes? Had that been a wry smile playing around the corners of his hard, straight mouth?

Her laughter fading, she groaned and rubbed her temples. She really didn’t want to make Trent smile. He had a strong enough effect on her when he was being rude

and irritable.

IT TOOK Trent less than twenty minutes to replace the screw on Annie’s old-fashioned wooden medicine-cabinet door and reattach a round ceramic knob. The cabinet needed to be stripped, sanded and repainted, he noted. Actually, the whole place needed painting, inside and out. With spring weather just setting in, it was a good time to get started on that project. He’d have to figure out a way to ask Annie if she wanted to invest in paint.

He found himself chuckling softly as he moved into the living room to check the problem window she’d told him about. He was remembering her disgruntled summation of his character when he’d refused to take the day off. “Mule-headed male,” she’d called him.

His amusement faded when he considered why she’d been so determined to talk him out of working today. She’d obviously noticed that he was having one of his bad days—he’d woken up stiff and achy that morning, his back muscles in spasms—but he was still perfectly capable of putting in a couple of hours at her place.

He’d given their service-swapping arrangement a couple more weeks, but every time he thought about ending it, he found himself making excuses to prolong it. He’d tried to convince himself that he’d grown spoiled to having his house cleaned and his laundry done. He’d thought of all the repairs still waiting to be done on Annie’s house, and he’d told himself he was being noble and generous to help her out.

But the truth was, he thought as he studied the sticking window casing, he had needed this more than Annie did. From his initial evaluation of her house to the prioritizing and implementing of repairs, he had secretly relished the sense of purpose he’d found since he’d begun this project. For two mornings a week, he’d had a reason to get out of bed. Something to do besides sit alone in his house and brood about the loss of his dreams. Dreams he had shattered himself through his own recklessness.

Scowling, he gripped the window handles in both hands and jerked upward. Pain body-slammed him from behind, making him stagger and then go down to his knees. Breaking into a sick sweat, he tried to stand—only to be brought down again.

Maybe he would just stay right where he was for a little while, he thought grimly, lowering himself carefully to the floor and letting the waves of pain wash over him.

ANNIE USUALLY CLEANED another house on Friday after leaving Trent’s place, but because her client had canceled that day, she found herself with several free hours. She made a stop by Honoria’s only music store, placed an order for some piano-teaching supplies, then headed home for what she anticipated would be a rare few hours of leisure.

She assumed Trent would have already finished for the day. She certainly hadn’t expected to find him lying facedown on her living-room floor.

“Trent?” She knelt beside him, her heart in her throat. His eyes were closed, his glasses lying on the floor beside him. A sheen of perspiration covered his face, even though the room was cool.

She was relieved when his eyes opened, though the expression in them almost made her gulp. Trent was not happy to have been found this way by her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Muscle spasms in my back. It’s no big deal. It happens sometimes.” His attempt at nonchalance didn’t exactly come off since the sentence ended in a gasp.

“How long have you been lying here?”

“Half an hour, maybe.”

“I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No. My cell phone’s in my pocket. If I’d wanted an ambulance, I’d have called one.”

“Can you stand up?”

Tags: Gina Wilkins The Wild McBrides Romance
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